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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27844534">unravel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/morebooksplease/pseuds/morebooksplease'>morebooksplease</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anne of Green Gables (TV 1985) &amp; Related Fandoms, Anne with an E (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A little angst with a happy ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fools in Love, They love each other, This took way too long, barely tho - Freeform, no beta we die like men, not me reflecting onto this, they THOUGHT it was unrequited, way too long, winifred is mentioned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:28:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,596</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27844534</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/morebooksplease/pseuds/morebooksplease</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The sun filters in through the windows, bathing him in its warm glow, making his eyes seem lighter than they usually are. She could fall in love all over again if she wasn’t enamored with him already. </p><p>“Come on,” he says softly, wearing an earnest expression. She wants to argue, wants to fight back but she’s so tired, so exhausted of the meaningless words she’s been writing. </p><p>“Okay,” she says wearily, resigned to the fact that she could never say no to Gilbert Blythe, “alright, let’s go.”</p><p>He pulls at her strings, unravelling the ball of yarn. Slowly but surely, she unravels.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gilbert Blythe &amp; Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>131</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>unravel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>ALRIGHTTTTT</p><p>this has not been proofed but im so tired of re-reading this. it seems worse every time. but i miss them so i wanted to write this. </p><p>also ignore the ending, kinda projected on it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The emptiness of the sheet bothers Anne, it makes her uncomfortable. The ink fills up the paper, some words hastily scribbled out. </p><p>There’s an ache in her right hand from a growing callous. It’s odd, that the dull pain is so familiar to her. </p><p>But It isn’t good enough, the words don’t convey the meaning she intends them to. Everything she writes falls flat –</p><p>“Anne,” </p><p>The light, familiar voice grabs her attention, pulling her back to earth. The voice tugs at her heart and immediately, she knows who it is. </p><p>“Anne,” he murmurs, “everyone has gone home.”</p><p>She doesn’t answer him, instead she focuses on the slight breeze that comes in through the schoolhouse’s open windows.  Her heart is in tangles, every thread threatening to come apart. A ball of yarn that nobody can unravel.</p><p>A warm hand pulls at her wrist gently, pulling it towards him. Anne hates the way his touch feels so familiar to her. Gilbert’s thumb rubs against her pulse point and she wonders if he can feel how quickly her heart is beating. </p><p>“That’s new,” he says, rubbing his finger against the callous that’s growing on her hand, “if you’re not careful, it’ll get worse.”</p><p>“I know,” she says, voice soft as he stares at her hand intently, examining it, “I’ve had a callous before.”</p><p>He looks back up at her, a small smile dancing on his face, “it’ll hurt if it tears.”</p><p>She’s breathless at his proximity, eyes drinking in the sight of him, “there are more painful things.”</p><p>His eyes grow soft, as if he understands her statement. If she was an artist, she’d want to paint him like this, with the sun illuminating him, making him ethereal. He makes her ache for something Anne has never had, something she will probably never have. </p><p>“Yeah,” he says quietly, eyebrows pulling together slightly as he pulls away from her, “there are worse things.”</p><p>He walks away from her, going back towards his desk. The distance seeming never ending in the empty school house. And Anne is exhausted of watching him walk away from her, always slipping through her grasp. Anne is tired of yearning for him, tired of dreaming for things that will never happen. </p><p>“it’s late,” he says, voice subdued as he gathers his things, “I’ll take you home.”</p><p>“I’m almost done,” Anne replies, tired eyes turning back to the scattered papers on her desk, “you don’t have to wait for me.”</p><p>“You’ve been at it since class ended,” he responds, voice firm as he walks back towards her desk, “Marilla will be worried.” </p><p>The sun filters in through the windows, bathing him in its warm glow, making his eyes seem lighter than they usually are. She could fall in love all over again if she wasn’t enamored with him already. </p><p>“Come on,” he says softly, wearing an earnest expression. She wants to argue, wants to fight back but she’s so tired, so exhausted of the meaningless words she’s been writing. </p><p>“Okay,” she says wearily, resigned to the fact that she could never say no to Gilbert Blythe, “alright, let’s go.”</p><p>He pulls at her strings, unravelling the ball of yarn. Slowly but surely, she unravels.</p><p> </p><p>The air is crisp as they step out from the schoolhouse, Anne’s eyes struggling to adjust to the light. Gilbert chuckles lowly from behind her, grasping her elbow lightly to keep her from falling. </p><p>Her stomach curls pleasantly at the sound of his laughter, it’s a sound she wants to memorize and store in her heart. They walk in companiable silence, the leaves crunching under their feet.</p><p>“Here,” he says quietly, his arm brushing against hers as he produces a small container from his satchel. He smiles at her sheepishly as she gingerly takes the tub from his hand. </p><p>“What is it?” she asks, her stomach fluttering slightly as their hands brush. Anne opens the container carefully, catching a whiff of honey. </p><p>“It’s supposed to soothe callouses,” he explains, not meeting her eyes, cheeks dusted pink from the cold, “I thought you could use it considering all the writing you’ve been doing.”</p><p>“Oh,” she says quietly, emotions running rampant from such simple act. </p><p>“Winifred gave it to me,” he says, quietly almost as if he hadn’t wanted her to hear, “but I don’t— I figured you would have more use for it.”</p><p>Anne’s hand freezes, sorely tempted to drop the container and walk away. “Winifred, of course,” she says, willing her voice to grow steady, “how is she?”</p><p>“She’s fine,” he murmurs, almost as if he regretted bringing it up, “I haven’t seen her since–”</p><p>He stops talking suddenly, his movements stilling as Anne turns over to look at him curiously. His mouth is parted slightly and Anne looks away from him, lest she do something stupid and impulsive like kiss him. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Gilbert says, rushed and earnest, looking at her with an unreadable expression, “you probably don’t want to hear about my … my problems.”</p><p>“Nonsense,” Anne responds, even if talking about Winifred is the last thing she wants to do, Gilbert is her friend first and foremost. She could listen to him talk until the earth ended, “after all, that’s what friends do.”</p><p>“Friends,” he whispers, face oddly serious, making him seem much older than he truly was. If Anne didn’t know any better, she would say his voice sounded almost bitter, “of course… we’re friends.”</p><p>“Mind you, we weren’t always friends,” she says, laughing as she recalls the memories of years prior, when every conversation led to a heated argument. Memories tinted with nostalgia and something almost bittersweet, the sound of a slate cracking rings in her ears. </p><p>He’s laughs softly, eyes crinkling with mirth and his smile genuinely radiant. </p><p>She loves him like this, when he looks carefree and young. Anne wonders, with a twinge of jealousy, if Winifred can make him smile like this. </p><p>His smile is fond as he looks at her, Anne’s stomach curls pleasantly, “I wore you down eventually.”</p><p>All she can do is smile at him; the words she wants to say trapped in her throat.</p><p>Anne has come to realize that there are times in life where she will ache for something she’s never experienced. Times when she will want something so desperately, fingers itching to curl around it, even if she knows it’s something she will never have. This feeling, this ache, that is embedded so deeply into her heart haunts her, it leaves her wondering why she was never good enough.  </p><p>Anne looks at Gilbert and that is exactly what she feels. But even if she could have nothing else, she could have moments like this. </p><p>“Anne,” he says softly, reverently as if her name was something sacred. His face hardens slightly, hazel eyes darkening with an emotion she can’t place. “Anne, I have something to tell you.”</p><p>He takes a step closer, hesitant but unguarded. It hurts, to see him smile so softly at her, to see him seek her out, when she knows he will never want her in the way she wants him.  </p><p>She’s almost certain of what he wants to tell her – knowing very well that everyone in Avonlea expected an engagement announcement from Gilbert Blythe and Winifred Rose. But the very thought makes her throat feel as if it’s closing up.</p><p>But he’s one of her closest friends, a true kindred spirit. She would listen to whatever he had to say, she would force herself to wish him the best in his upcoming nuptials. Anne had prepared for this; she shouldn’t feel as blindsided as she does. </p><p>He chews on his bottom lip harshly, fingers curling together. Anne suppresses the urge to soothe his knitted eyebrows. The silence is tense as he gathers himself, preparing to speak.</p><p>“I won’t be marrying Winifred.”</p><p>She blinks, momentarily unable to understand what he had just said. Relief floods her senses as she processes what he just said. Gilbert wasn’t going to marry Winifred; he wasn’t going to marry her—</p><p>And that sends Anne crumbling all over again. If Winifred who was older, prettier, and more sophisticated wasn’t enough for Gilbert. How could she, Anne Shirley Cuthbert who was well known for her recklessness and homeliness, ever be enough for him?</p><p>“Why not?” she asks petulantly, her voice lighter than the wind. </p><p>“I didn’t love her,” he responds, voice tight with suppressed frustration. His hand is on her elbow, pulling her closer to him. The weight of his hand is searing, warmth seeps into her at his touch. </p><p>“She- Winifred said that it had seemed as if—” he murmurs, his light eyes boring into her, his look was almost desperate, “she said that it seemed as if my heart wasn’t my own to give.”</p><p>Anne was dumbfounded, veins on fire, “you love someone else.”</p><p>The faint blush on his cheekbones grows with intensity, his gaze is heavy as he looks at her. </p><p>“Yes,” he says and her heart feels as if it’s being torn in pieces all over again.</p><p>“You love someone else,” she murmurs, pulling away from him, his eyes follow her movements, letting her go, “you love someone else and I’m a fool.”</p><p>Anne can feel the heaviness of her throat and knows she’s close to tears, she needs to get away from him, “Marilla’s waiting for me, I need to go.”</p><p>“Wait,” he says spluttering slightly as he pulls off his cap, chestnut curls springing loose, “wait, let me explain.”</p><p>“What is there to explain,” she says, voice as even as she can manage, turning away from him. Worn leaves crunching under her step as she briskly walks away, “It’s all pretty clear to me.”</p><p>“Anne,” he says pleadingly, catching up to her, “Anne, please listen to me.”</p><p>“I wish you every happiness, truly. I just— I just don’t want to see you right now, I need to get home.”</p><p>Gilbert startles, his steps faltering slightly. Anne turns to look at him, against her better judgement. His eyebrows are knitted, an exasperated expression on his face – he’s growing frustrated, she can tell. </p><p>“Just let me explain,” he says, voice steely as he looks at her, “I understand if you don’t accept my feelings but—” </p><p>“Accept your feelings?” she asks, mind spinning with the urge to run away from him, “I have no right to tell you who you should court or … or who you should marry. I’m positive that you and this … this woman, whoever she is, will be very happy—”</p><p>“What? Whoever she is, Anne its –”</p><p>“Yes, I’m positive you’ll have a wonderful life together—”</p><p>“It’s you!” he exclaims, her words die on her tongue, “it’s you, it could never be anyone but you.”</p><p>Anne is rendered speechless, his words slowly registering. Her heart is in her throat, ready to burst out in confused happiness.</p><p>“What?” she asks blearily, mind in a haze, “you what?”</p><p>“God, Anne. I tried to love her, I tried to love Winifred as she deserved, I truly did.” Gilbert runs a hand through his hair roughly, not meeting her gaze. She can’t keep her eyes off of him, her mouth still parted in shock, “but you never left my mind, you never left, no matter how much I tried to distract myself – I didn’t realize how far gone I was over you before she pointed it out.”</p><p>“You love me?” she asks incredulously, mouth twisted with a confused expression, “truly?”</p><p>His eyes are fond as he looks at her. He steps closer hesitantly, waiting for her to move away.</p><p>“Yes” he whispers softly, words carried by the wind, “how could anyone not love you?”</p><p>“Nobody ever has,” she murmurs, staring up at him, her hand resting on his arm, “before I came here nobody ever wanted me, never loved me.”</p><p>“Your parents loved you, I’m sure of it,” he says, a trembling finger threading through her hair, “There are so many people who love you, who appreciate you for who you truly are—”</p><p>“I love you too,” she replies, relishing in the way his face colors as he processes her words, “I’m sorry – I’ve just wanted to say that for a long time.”</p><p>He stumbles backwards, eyes wide. The song of a bird flitters around them, Anne’s heart beats wildly in her chest.</p><p>“This is real?” he asks incredulously, hands clasped together, reaching out for her once more “I’m not dreaming?”</p><p>A laugh bubbles past her lips, her face feels warm. Anne’s heart feels as if it reached its limit, ready to burst at any second, “You’re very much awake, Gil.”</p><p>He takes a faltering step forward; mouth still slightly parted. Anne wants to remember this moment forever. </p><p>Gilbert pulls her into an embrace, nudging his head against the crown of her head. It’s the same as the countless times they’ve hugged before, it’s still them. Still Anne and Gilbert, two rivals with a trail of yarn threading between them. </p><p>Gilbert rests his forehead against hers, leaning down so they align. Hazel eyes are filled with happiness and something Anne can only describe as love. </p><p>In his embrace, she feels safe and content. Anne could live a lifetime in his arms and it still wouldn’t be enough. The failures and insecurities that loom so loudly in her head are quiet in Gilbert’s embrace. Anne could live a lifetime in his arms and it still wouldn’t be enough. </p><p>The ball of yarn has unraveled, the string rests on Anne’s ink-stained fingertips. </p><p>.・゜゜・　　</p><p>          ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　</p><p>                        ・゜゜・．．</p><p>　                                       *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧</p><p>When writing gets too difficult, Anne writes her own familiar story. </p><p>Tales of a boy with dark hair and a smile that too charming for his own good. A tale of a constant stream of letters. Pressed flowers and postcards included in each envelope. Knowing smiles on each of her friend’s faces when they hand her the post.</p><p>Memories littered with gold of days spent in Avonlea. The gem on her finger glittering in the sunshine. The smile of a boy, growing into a man, that shined more radiantly than the sun. Tears in the corner of Marilla’s eyes when they tell her the news. </p><p>Days that are perfectly emblazed in her memory, hands joined in unity and a gold ring on Gilbert’s finger. White dress with grass stains at the bottom and wearing a veil with a tear of nostalgia. A small house filled with all their happiness. </p><p>There are darker days, when they can’t seem to talk to each other without arguing. Those days always end with Gilbert making her favorite dinner and Anne quietly reading Walt Whitman’s poems out loud. Sometimes, it’s hard for Anne to apologize but Gilbert understands her acts of apology, he always does. </p><p>Nights spent trying to calm a crying infant, exhaustion pooling in their eyes but so, so happy all the same. The sight of Gilbert attempting to sew together a frock for the next leaves her warm. </p><p>When the ink-stains on her fingers resemble blood stains in the dark of the night, she focuses on her own story. Thinks of the happiness that has filled her heart to the brim. Thinks of the little girl with dark hair and blue eyes that rests beside her and the man who’s snoring softly in the other room. </p><p>Writing was her solace in the darkest days of her childhood. It’s still a source of comfort to her when her thoughts are too chaotic. But some days, she needs time to breathe, needs time to appreciate what she has right in front of her. </p><p>She lives, she loves, and she writes again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yeah can you tell i projected at the end??? yeah me too. </p><p>slight warning, this is prob the last awae piece im writing. so goodbye :)</p><p>pls leave kudos and comments, i want validation.</p><p>in all seriousness, thank you for supporting and reading to the end. so much love. </p><p>tumblr: reastyles<br/>insta: libraryofavonlea</p></blockquote></div></div>
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